Zefla laughs out loud when the man says Giles worships the Lord of Salemen. But other than that, she gazes around the garden, listening to the two converse, wondering how long this will all take. She really hopes they can set out on their journey in the morning. Or better yet, still today? The mist concerns her though.. why can't they get through it without the Vistani? They got through it to get here didn't they?
The roses draw her attention and she pulls out her dagger and clips one from the vine. She holds it to her nose and breathes in deeply. Might be good to give to Ireena, she thinks.
Giles knows that the secret to a successful deception is altering that part in your mind such that you actually believe it yourself. A way of compartmentalizing your mind such that you can wall off what you know to be the truth, to what you have made true in your mind, and actually believe it. He gives a slight smile and a wink to Ismark in return. “Salesmen? No, not so. I follow Tymora, but as a man of the cloth, I minister to all… and if we need the rights of Lathander, then so be it. The biggest help I need is the digging of the plot. I will handle all of the preparations otherwise. I’m glad that my hunch was correct, I meant what I said, and after hearing you and seeing this, I think he would prefer to be buried here…” Giles truly believes it as the words come out of his mouth.
Giles begins to walk around the ground, looking at how Yakov was buried, and he marks a plot of the ground right beside him for burial. He walks around the ground in a circle five times, arching his arms over his head as he does so. He pours some water from his waterskin onto his hands and throws it in the air over the ground, making the appearance of morning dew. He stops at the foot of the gravesite and bows his head, beginning to say prayers. “Prepare this ground, make it holy morning Lord, prepare to receive your humble servant, Burgomaster Kolyana, prepare to receive him into your arms. As the mighty sun rises into the sky each morn and the dew wets this ground as if it were your tears, please make this ground holy and ready for this burial we are to perform today.” He arches his arms up high in the sky, 5 times again, and then brings them to his side, bowing his head.
He turns to Ismark with a serious manner and says, “We are ready. Do you have a shovel?” Silently, as his eyelids flutter, he silently says a prayer to the one who gives him power, Tymora, thinking “Thank youuuuuuu.” He is not sure if it is real or if he imagines it, but he thinks that he heard a high pitched girlish laugh of amusement in return.
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A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
"Oh, there are no silver weapons in Barovia. They are forbidden," Ireena states.
"Father did see to it that both Ismark and I knew how to handle a blade" she answers Burr. She looks down sadly at her father, his complexion gone to grey. "He wanted us to be able to defend ourselves."
She pauses a long time before she answers Soren'slast question, her hand rising to massage her shoulder. "I... agree that its best to get some distance from all of this. Some time in Vallaki... to visit a proper town and clear my head. I hate the thought of leaving Ismark alone right now. But yes. Yes, I go with you of my own will."
The rose smells sweet, Zefla. It may not be the finest rose you've come across, but here in this grey land, it is a welcome reminder that things can still grow; that life can still find a way to endure.
Ismark watches Father Giles' performance. "His name was Dirov. Dirov Kolyana." He heads back into the house. "I'll find a shovel and let the others know."
After some time, Ismark returns to the parlor, shovel in hand. "It's time," he says softly to Ireena. The other man who had been smoking outside the front door comes in to join the others. He takes the shovel from Ismark and goes out back to dig. Ismark asks Burrand Sorento do him the honor of acting as pall bearers. Once the other man (who you learn is a cook long employed by the family) is done digging, Ismark will have him join and be the fourth. Ireena will have none of it, insisting that she will help carry their father. Ismark protects weakly, suggesting she should go out and prepare with the priest, but she is immovable. Ismark relents.
Shortly after Imark goes inside, the smoking man from the front door comes out to join Zeflaand Giles. He nods to both, marginally more sociable than he had been up to this point, and he begins digging in the space marked by Giles. A few minutes later, [assuming Burrand Sorenare game] the Kolyana's bring out their father's body with the aid of your other party members.
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PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Why are silvered weapons forbidden in Barovia if only with them can werewolves be harmed? The question trails off in Soren's head as the likely conclusion gradually dawns on him. Because the werewolves may serve Strahd as his own pack and he does not wish his pack to be interfered with.
In answer to Ireena, he only nods solemnly and murmurs, "I am happy that you come with us of your own free will." He pauses for a moment and his voice becomes even quieter, remembering Jaromir and the rabid pack from the morning. "Perhaps your brother should come too."
Soren does whatever he is asked during the ceremony, respectful but somewhat lost in thought. About the Sun, silver, and free will.
Itching to get moving, Zefla watches the progression of the ceremony off to the side. Happy that things are moving along steadily, she asks the cook a quick question as he digs. "Do you know much about the Vistani? Or how to move through the mist?"
Giles channels the words to his mouth as he gives a fairly convincing funeral ceremony in the manner of Lathander, from a lay person viewpoint. He is thankful that the priest at the church is not present to critique his work. He gives many flowery phrases about the sun and its power, the renewing of the dawn each morning, and the power of its light. He has a solemn face as he nods and indicates to the cook to lower the coffin into the ground. Giles holds the first handful of dirt up toward the sky and then throws it in. “Morning Lord, return your son Dirov Kolyana to your bosom, and we set him to rest with honor beside his brother. Lathander be praised!” He arches his arms up in the sky again in a manner of the sun, arching over the sky, nodding and giving a kind smile as the ceremony is complete.
After he has greeted solemnly everyone that is there and shaken hands, he gives Ireena a fatherly hug and then says “My child, we should get on and get you to safety. Let us prepare for travel to Vallaki. Ismark, what do you think about joining us on our trip?”
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A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
The cooks looks around and then crosses his forehead. He whispers to Zefla, "Beware the Vistani. They are crafty devils, in league with the devil Strahd. They alone can pass through the mists that border our land. They bring back trade goods from the lands beyond the mists, and Strahd rewards them with status and privileges denied to us Barovian folk. It's a travesty."
"Anyone who attempts to leave the land of Barovia begins to choke on the fog. I tried to leave as a young man. This mists looked and felt like common fog, but in my lungs it burned like the black smoke of a housefire. Those who don’t turn back perish, returning instead as ghosts or specters."
With the ceremony over, the cook gives final condolences to Ireena and Ismark, excuses himself and departs.
Ismark and Ireena spend some time alone talking at the gravesite, before Ireena turns to Giles. "Thank you Father. That was... enough. I'll go prepare."
Ismark shakes his head at Giles' suggestion. "No. There is unfinished business here. Strahd will come to find out what happened to his Burgomaster. I intend to see that those responsible for my father's death see what passes for justice in Barovia. Besides that, if we all disappear at once, he may suspect we fled and send his agents to search for Ireena. With our father's death, I can just tell him she is in mourning and refuses to see visitors, even the mighty Count. He must respect that, if he thinks to court her. I might be able to buy a week with that ploy, before I have to come up with something more permanent. And as long as I can stall for at least a day or two, you should have her safely in Vallaki."
He holds up a finger. "Which reminds me...". He leads you back through the garden doors into the manor house. He goes down a small door behind the kitchen and returns back up the stairs a few seconds later. "I cannot say when we will meet again, so I must pay you in advance. It's putting some faith in you, that you will see my sister through as promised though the gold is already yours. I have to assume wherever you come from, the gods do not allow their priests to steal from grieving sons." His tone suggests a joke, but his face is grim. He holds out a sack that jingles with the sound of gold coins. [The party has added 500 gp, divided up as you see fit. ]
For the next hour, Ismark paces in the parlor... it is well into the afternoon now and he is anxious that you get on the road before dark. As you wait for his sister to pack, he tells you a little more about your journey. Asking Soren to draw forth the map, he shares what he knows.
The large road that runs roughly East-West through he settlements of Barovia, Vallaki and Krezk is called the Old Svallich Road. You will want to take this road when you leave.
Ismark has never been to Vallaki, but has been told it is more than a full day's walk from this village.
The only major settlement between here and Vallaki is the Vistani's Tser Pool camp. It is a stopover site for the traveling wagons of the Vistani's traders, but they have been camping in this location for so long that it has turned into a semi-permanent village all its own. Ismark has visited this place several times. He does not share the other Barovian's dislike for the Vistani, though he admits he does suspect at least some of them report to Strahd in exchange for gold or favors. He suggests you make for the camp tonight, as it will be the safest place for you to rest, and the Vistani welcome guests so long as you do not break their rules of hospitality. Just be sure to conceal Ireena's identity... just in case.
There are farms along the road, but Ismark has been told almost all of them have been abandoned. These might be places for you to shelter, if necessary.
The conventional wisdom is that it is never safe to travel these lands, but it is especially dangerous at night. If you find yourselves without shelter when the darkness comes, redouble you pace until you can get someplace safe.
Looking over the map, he has a few final thoughts:
It has been said for years that Zeindenburg in the Southwest is gone, swallowed by the mists. This is a very old map.
As far as he knows, the rest of the map is still accurate. For example, a servant of the library in Immol visited last year to retrieve some books his father had borrowed. So... Immol probably still exists.
When Ireena finally does come downstairs, she is hard to recognize, as she is wearing a fine set of red elven chain over her traveling clothes and has her hair tied up under a half-helm. A longsword, matching in style to Ismark's, is sheathed at her hip. A heavy backpack is strapped to her shoulders, stuffed with all those possessions she saw fit to pack. Brother and sister share a firm embrace and say their goodbyes, and we are ready to depart.
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PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Soren tries to make mental notes as Ismark speaks and points to the map, tucking it away carefully afterwards so it will be hidden from the Vistani. He is unsettled by the fact that sleeping in the wilderness at night as he is accustomed to sounds dangerous in Barovia.
Before Ireena comes back downstairs, Soren speaks to Ismark and the group quietly:
"Ismark - we will do our best to justify your trust in us. So with Vallaki too far to reach today, we should plan the spend the night at the Vistani camp at Tser Pool. But have you considered any other destination other than Vallaki, where you have never been? They are not your pack. Do you have any pack... ah, blood relatives on your father or... mother's side with whom it might be better to take shelter?"
He cannot help but think: No matter where we go with her, it does not sound as if we can stop Strahd once he decides to come after her...
He pauses a moment wondering if the question is rude, especially so soon after the Burgomaster's death. Tentatively, he continues: "Does your and Ireena's mother yet live? From her appearance, I wondered if she may resemble her mother while you clearly take after your father."
(Once Ireena descends and joins the group, Soren says brief goodbyes and is ready to depart immediately.)
[Prior to Ireena rejoining the group from upstairs.]
Ismark listens to Soren'squestions. "No, we aren't twins, are we?" he asks - again with the tone of a joke, but his doesn't laugh. "It's all right. It isn't a secret. Ireena and I are only half-siblings. Mother - my mother - was our father's wife. Yasmina." Ismark stiffens his lip. "She died when I was very young. Her and Yakov. I don't remember... I was too small. They drowned, father said, but only Yakov's remains were ever found."
"Father never remarried. But Ireena arrived nevertheless, the product of some affair or tryst. She came to live with us when she was only three years old. She doesn't remember her mother, and Father never told us the details." He chuckles. "It was scandalous among the local rumor mongers. The most popular story was that her mother was Vistani."
"It's not impossible, I'll admit, but I doubt it. The bonds are tight with those folk, and I can't believe they would have given her up to our father even if something had happened to her mother."
"I never really cared. This was such a lonely house after Mother was gone... I was just happy to have a sister to play with."
He frowns. "So in answer to your question, what remains of my mother's kin are all here in the village, and we don't know who Ireena's kin are, or if any yet live."
[Back to the present.]
"Yes," Ismark says. "If you march with purpose, you should reach the Tser Pool Camp in 3 or 4 hours. That's cutting it close, but if you don't delay you should make it before nightfall."
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PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Fixing the map and the road to Villaki via Tser Pool firmly in his head before putting it away, Soren leads the way through the town of Barovia and on the road towards the Vistani camp. (Presumably back south then west, in the direction they had come from in the morning, past the haunted house?).
He considers summoning Nettle, his wild owl companion, but decides to wait until it is twilight and the danger (and need) may be greater.
"I am happy to be out of this town, I admit," he tells the others. "In the entire town, really only Ismark and Ireena would talk to us. And Pariwimple to the extent Bildrath allowed him to. And Gertruda's mother, I suppose. It is as if the sun is gone not just from the sky, but from their spirits."
When the dark, gothic castle on the bluff comes into view, Soren eyes it apprehensively, wondering if Strahd is aware of them, even now as they walk.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Giles is walking along a self satisfied smile on his face. When Soren speaks, it brings him round to the gravity of the situation, the fact that they are in a foreign realm where death was always at hand, always at your elbow. The ruler of this land would gladly see them lying dead on the side of the road, their bones to bleach and become markers on his highways. He looks up in the sky for any hint of sunlight. “Morning lord indeed.” He says to himself. “Stay sharp. Keep on your toes!” He starts to twirl the coin down his fingers again, listening to the conversation as they talk. “Let’s make our feet light and walk swiftly. I wish to get to that camp before nightfall. Ismark seemed pretty emphatic about that. Anyone know any good walking songs?” He looked around hopefully, trying to make their situation a little more light.
Burr marches along at the rear of the party looking for both dangers and signs of lagging or tiredness in the group, he doesn't want to be caught out in the dark.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Happy to be moving along, and happier still to have her share of the gold lining her pockets, Zefla's steps are a bit lighter now as they move out of Bavaria. She gives Ireena a couple of side long glances, unsure of what to make the of the woman. This is the one being courted by the creep in the castle? Suppose that would be a topic to avoid...
"Good walking songs? Nah, I'm not much of a singer. Ireena, since we are heading to a Vistani camp for the evening, what can you tell us about these people?" As she asks this question, so many other questions start swirling around in her head, but she decides not to bombard the poor woman who just lost her father.. by the hands of people in her own town. She shudders thinking about that, how the hatred must run pretty deep here.
She turns to Soren and smiles, "That about sums it up, I didn't see spirit really in any of those in town... other than the women in the tavern, interestingly enough.."
She keeps towards the front of the party, keeping her eyes open for anything a miss while continuing the conversation.
You slip out of town as quickly and quietly as you can manage and begin the journey back the way you had come, toward the ruins of the old mansion and beyond. The streets of Barovia are still empty, with just an old black crow to caw out a farewell to you as pass into the trees that line the Old Svallich Road.
A light rain begins to fall as you walk, just enough to dampen your exposed skin without really soaking your garments. The pitter patter of the rain muffles the sound from the woods around you, giving the impression your voices are the only noise but for the raindrops.
"The Vistani? They are... a colorful tribe," Ireena says to Zefla. "Alone among the people here, they retain bold spirits. They love to dance and sing and play music. And stories... they have storytelling competitions that are quite entertaining. I was told they don't believe in writing things down, preferring to share their stories orally. Apparently they like the way a tale can be embellished and grow over time... it is their way of keeping the past alive. Literally... alive and growing. I'm sure they will welcome us if we ask to camp there for the night."
"But they are not entirely care-free," she warns. "Do not steal from them or start violence in their camp. They practice old magic and have been known to curse those who break faith with them."
When Zefladenies knowing any good walking songs, Ireena begins to sing unprovoked. It is a haunting melody and her voice tugs at your heartstrings.
In that cursed Autumn
That brought us tyranny,
I saw on the field a poor soldier
Who was in agony.
He was a brave barovian soldier
With his forehead turned cold,
Felled by invader's arrows,
Everlasting pain.
I worshiped that man
Fallen to duty,
Because my own soldier father
Has died too.
He looked at me with pain
With his eyes - barely alive,
A tear fell from the sky
And he was gone.*
The song over, silence lingers for a moment. She reaches under her half-helm and wipes away a tear. She laughs, uncomfortably. "I beg your pardon. That wasn't much of a motivational marching tune, was it?" She clears her throat and blushes. "Let me try another one...". The next song she sings is much more upbeat and makes it easy to fall into a marching rhythm.
When people go to bed,
Who walks drunk in taverns?
And every morning
Who is holding a lantern in his arms?
It's Lioniv, struck by luck,
Who drinks to put out his fire,
The fire that burns his heart,
Because Măria doesn't love him.
Lioniv, Lioniv,
Stop drinking, boy,
Lioniv, Lioniv, for the girls are laughing at you. (x2)
What did you see, Lioniv, in Măria,
Why did she set your heart on fire?
And why are you crying, boy?
When the earth is full of girls.
If you want to forget about Măria,
Come to the field with me one night,
To pick white flowers,
To look at the moon and the stars.
Lioniv, Lioniv,
Stop drinking, boy,
Lioniv, Lioniv, for the girls are laughing at you. (x2)*
Before you realize how far you have come, you reach the turn off to the ruined mansion. Your own boot prints from this morning, headed toward Barovia, are still visible in the mud. Along with them are wolftracks. Dozens of wolf tracks. They meander about the road and all seem to follow your own prints from this morning a short distance before cutting back into the forest.
[* These are (slightly modified) eastern european folk songs I ripped off for flavor. They appear to be old enough that no author is identified.]
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PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Soren is glad he is not the only one who found the town of Barovia to be drained of life. He considers Zefla's point that the Vistani in the tavern did seem lively and listens to Ireena's description of them. At her warnings about not stealing from them, he is suddenly uncomfortably aware of the map in his backpack. I did not steal it from them. Perhaps Raquon of Greyhawk did. But I do not know if city-folk will believe me. Are Vistani city-folk anyway?
He musings are cut off as he appreciates Ireena's song. Soren's own voice had never been strong, but he remembers wistfully back to the singing of his friends in Neverwinter Wood. The still summer night aglow with the stars glittering. The full moon reflecting off a forest pond. His pack raising their voices in a chorus that spoke of the hunt and of family and of ancient loss and sorrow. Their lupine eyes closed and mouths upraised as they howled.
But the wolves of this strange, cursed land seem alien and cold, somehow. Perhaps in time, that might change, but the werewolves... Silver is forbidden...
Soren calls for Silvanus' guidance and studies the wolf tracks near the abandoned man-dwelling where they had spent the previous night. Trying to gauge whether the tracks (or any spoor) indicate that these were the gray wolves whose howls they had heard the previous night after coming through the mists, or from some different variety, even werewolves. As he recalls, there had been perhaps six to eight of them they had heard, but now, these tracks appear to be from dozens of animals? Strange, if they were stalking us as we walked, then it must have been during the daytime...
SorenSurvival plus Guidance to determine type of wolf and a better estimate of numbers: 15 + 2 = 17
He agrees with Giles and Burr that they should keep their pace quick so as not to be caught out at night, though he is unaccustomed to fearing such.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Giles smiles as they are walking, getting into his own marching rhythm with the song about Lioniv. He gives a good laugh at the end, saying “Thank you Ireena, that was great. Laughing a little goes a long way to dispel the gloom in this land. Hopefully we will be there soon?” As he sees the wolf tracks and notes Soren examine them, he unbuckles the latch that holds his crossbow and keeps his hand on it, checking the edges of the woods, looking ahead and behind, listening for movement and looking for signs of any wolves that may be approaching.
Perception : 11 (passive : 14)
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A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
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Zefla laughs out loud when the man says Giles worships the Lord of Salemen. But other than that, she gazes around the garden, listening to the two converse, wondering how long this will all take. She really hopes they can set out on their journey in the morning. Or better yet, still today? The mist concerns her though.. why can't they get through it without the Vistani? They got through it to get here didn't they?
The roses draw her attention and she pulls out her dagger and clips one from the vine. She holds it to her nose and breathes in deeply. Might be good to give to Ireena, she thinks.
Giles knows that the secret to a successful deception is altering that part in your mind such that you actually believe it yourself. A way of compartmentalizing your mind such that you can wall off what you know to be the truth, to what you have made true in your mind, and actually believe it. He gives a slight smile and a wink to Ismark in return. “Salesmen? No, not so. I follow Tymora, but as a man of the cloth, I minister to all… and if we need the rights of Lathander, then so be it. The biggest help I need is the digging of the plot. I will handle all of the preparations otherwise. I’m glad that my hunch was correct, I meant what I said, and after hearing you and seeing this, I think he would prefer to be buried here…” Giles truly believes it as the words come out of his mouth.
Giles begins to walk around the ground, looking at how Yakov was buried, and he marks a plot of the ground right beside him for burial. He walks around the ground in a circle five times, arching his arms over his head as he does so. He pours some water from his waterskin onto his hands and throws it in the air over the ground, making the appearance of morning dew. He stops at the foot of the gravesite and bows his head, beginning to say prayers. “Prepare this ground, make it holy morning Lord, prepare to receive your humble servant, Burgomaster Kolyana, prepare to receive him into your arms. As the mighty sun rises into the sky each morn and the dew wets this ground as if it were your tears, please make this ground holy and ready for this burial we are to perform today.” He arches his arms up high in the sky, 5 times again, and then brings them to his side, bowing his head.
He turns to Ismark with a serious manner and says, “We are ready. Do you have a shovel?” Silently, as his eyelids flutter, he silently says a prayer to the one who gives him power, Tymora, thinking “Thank youuuuuuu.” He is not sure if it is real or if he imagines it, but he thinks that he heard a high pitched girlish laugh of amusement in return.
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
"Oh, there are no silver weapons in Barovia. They are forbidden," Ireena states.
"Father did see to it that both Ismark and I knew how to handle a blade" she answers Burr. She looks down sadly at her father, his complexion gone to grey. "He wanted us to be able to defend ourselves."
She pauses a long time before she answers Soren's last question, her hand rising to massage her shoulder. "I... agree that its best to get some distance from all of this. Some time in Vallaki... to visit a proper town and clear my head. I hate the thought of leaving Ismark alone right now. But yes. Yes, I go with you of my own will."
The rose smells sweet, Zefla. It may not be the finest rose you've come across, but here in this grey land, it is a welcome reminder that things can still grow; that life can still find a way to endure.
Ismark watches Father Giles' performance. "His name was Dirov. Dirov Kolyana." He heads back into the house. "I'll find a shovel and let the others know."
After some time, Ismark returns to the parlor, shovel in hand. "It's time," he says softly to Ireena. The other man who had been smoking outside the front door comes in to join the others. He takes the shovel from Ismark and goes out back to dig. Ismark asks Burr and Soren to do him the honor of acting as pall bearers. Once the other man (who you learn is a cook long employed by the family) is done digging, Ismark will have him join and be the fourth. Ireena will have none of it, insisting that she will help carry their father. Ismark protects weakly, suggesting she should go out and prepare with the priest, but she is immovable. Ismark relents.
Shortly after Imark goes inside, the smoking man from the front door comes out to join Zefla and Giles. He nods to both, marginally more sociable than he had been up to this point, and he begins digging in the space marked by Giles. A few minutes later, [assuming Burr and Soren are game] the Kolyana's bring out their father's body with the aid of your other party members.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Why are silvered weapons forbidden in Barovia if only with them can werewolves be harmed? The question trails off in Soren's head as the likely conclusion gradually dawns on him. Because the werewolves may serve Strahd as his own pack and he does not wish his pack to be interfered with.
In answer to Ireena, he only nods solemnly and murmurs, "I am happy that you come with us of your own free will." He pauses for a moment and his voice becomes even quieter, remembering Jaromir and the rabid pack from the morning. "Perhaps your brother should come too."
Soren does whatever he is asked during the ceremony, respectful but somewhat lost in thought. About the Sun, silver, and free will.
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
It is by no means the first funeral Burr has been a bearer at and it will not be the last.
He nods at Sorens suggestion.
Itching to get moving, Zefla watches the progression of the ceremony off to the side. Happy that things are moving along steadily, she asks the cook a quick question as he digs. "Do you know much about the Vistani? Or how to move through the mist?"
Giles channels the words to his mouth as he gives a fairly convincing funeral ceremony in the manner of Lathander, from a lay person viewpoint. He is thankful that the priest at the church is not present to critique his work. He gives many flowery phrases about the sun and its power, the renewing of the dawn each morning, and the power of its light. He has a solemn face as he nods and indicates to the cook to lower the coffin into the ground. Giles holds the first handful of dirt up toward the sky and then throws it in. “Morning Lord, return your son Dirov Kolyana to your bosom, and we set him to rest with honor beside his brother. Lathander be praised!” He arches his arms up in the sky again in a manner of the sun, arching over the sky, nodding and giving a kind smile as the ceremony is complete.
After he has greeted solemnly everyone that is there and shaken hands, he gives Ireena a fatherly hug and then says “My child, we should get on and get you to safety. Let us prepare for travel to Vallaki. Ismark, what do you think about joining us on our trip?”
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
The cooks looks around and then crosses his forehead. He whispers to Zefla, "Beware the Vistani. They are crafty devils, in league with the devil Strahd. They alone can pass through the mists that border our land. They bring back trade goods from the lands beyond the mists, and Strahd rewards them with status and privileges denied to us Barovian folk. It's a travesty."
"Anyone who attempts to leave the land of Barovia begins to choke on the fog. I tried to leave as a young man. This mists looked and felt like common fog, but in my lungs it burned like the black smoke of a housefire. Those who don’t turn back perish, returning instead as ghosts or specters."
With the ceremony over, the cook gives final condolences to Ireena and Ismark, excuses himself and departs.
Ismark and Ireena spend some time alone talking at the gravesite, before Ireena turns to Giles. "Thank you Father. That was... enough. I'll go prepare."
Ismark shakes his head at Giles' suggestion. "No. There is unfinished business here. Strahd will come to find out what happened to his Burgomaster. I intend to see that those responsible for my father's death see what passes for justice in Barovia. Besides that, if we all disappear at once, he may suspect we fled and send his agents to search for Ireena. With our father's death, I can just tell him she is in mourning and refuses to see visitors, even the mighty Count. He must respect that, if he thinks to court her. I might be able to buy a week with that ploy, before I have to come up with something more permanent. And as long as I can stall for at least a day or two, you should have her safely in Vallaki."
He holds up a finger. "Which reminds me...". He leads you back through the garden doors into the manor house. He goes down a small door behind the kitchen and returns back up the stairs a few seconds later. "I cannot say when we will meet again, so I must pay you in advance. It's putting some faith in you, that you will see my sister through as promised though the gold is already yours. I have to assume wherever you come from, the gods do not allow their priests to steal from grieving sons." His tone suggests a joke, but his face is grim. He holds out a sack that jingles with the sound of gold coins. [The party has added 500 gp, divided up as you see fit. ]
For the next hour, Ismark paces in the parlor... it is well into the afternoon now and he is anxious that you get on the road before dark. As you wait for his sister to pack, he tells you a little more about your journey. Asking Soren to draw forth the map, he shares what he knows.
When Ireena finally does come downstairs, she is hard to recognize, as she is wearing a fine set of red elven chain over her traveling clothes and has her hair tied up under a half-helm. A longsword, matching in style to Ismark's, is sheathed at her hip. A heavy backpack is strapped to her shoulders, stuffed with all those possessions she saw fit to pack. Brother and sister share a firm embrace and say their goodbyes, and we are ready to depart.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Soren tries to make mental notes as Ismark speaks and points to the map, tucking it away carefully afterwards so it will be hidden from the Vistani. He is unsettled by the fact that sleeping in the wilderness at night as he is accustomed to sounds dangerous in Barovia.
Before Ireena comes back downstairs, Soren speaks to Ismark and the group quietly:
"Ismark - we will do our best to justify your trust in us. So with Vallaki too far to reach today, we should plan the spend the night at the Vistani camp at Tser Pool. But have you considered any other destination other than Vallaki, where you have never been? They are not your pack. Do you have any pack... ah, blood relatives on your father or... mother's side with whom it might be better to take shelter?"
He cannot help but think: No matter where we go with her, it does not sound as if we can stop Strahd once he decides to come after her...
He pauses a moment wondering if the question is rude, especially so soon after the Burgomaster's death. Tentatively, he continues: "Does your and Ireena's mother yet live? From her appearance, I wondered if she may resemble her mother while you clearly take after your father."
(Once Ireena descends and joins the group, Soren says brief goodbyes and is ready to depart immediately.)
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Burr nods approvingly at Ireenas equipment and demeanour.
" We should make this Pool Camp before nightfall?"
[Prior to Ireena rejoining the group from upstairs.]
Ismark listens to Soren's questions. "No, we aren't twins, are we?" he asks - again with the tone of a joke, but his doesn't laugh. "It's all right. It isn't a secret. Ireena and I are only half-siblings. Mother - my mother - was our father's wife. Yasmina." Ismark stiffens his lip. "She died when I was very young. Her and Yakov. I don't remember... I was too small. They drowned, father said, but only Yakov's remains were ever found."
"Father never remarried. But Ireena arrived nevertheless, the product of some affair or tryst. She came to live with us when she was only three years old. She doesn't remember her mother, and Father never told us the details." He chuckles. "It was scandalous among the local rumor mongers. The most popular story was that her mother was Vistani."
"It's not impossible, I'll admit, but I doubt it. The bonds are tight with those folk, and I can't believe they would have given her up to our father even if something had happened to her mother."
"I never really cared. This was such a lonely house after Mother was gone... I was just happy to have a sister to play with."
He frowns. "So in answer to your question, what remains of my mother's kin are all here in the village, and we don't know who Ireena's kin are, or if any yet live."
[Back to the present.]
"Yes," Ismark says. "If you march with purpose, you should reach the Tser Pool Camp in 3 or 4 hours. That's cutting it close, but if you don't delay you should make it before nightfall."
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Fixing the map and the road to Villaki via Tser Pool firmly in his head before putting it away, Soren leads the way through the town of Barovia and on the road towards the Vistani camp. (Presumably back south then west, in the direction they had come from in the morning, past the haunted house?).
He considers summoning Nettle, his wild owl companion, but decides to wait until it is twilight and the danger (and need) may be greater.
"I am happy to be out of this town, I admit," he tells the others. "In the entire town, really only Ismark and Ireena would talk to us. And Pariwimple to the extent Bildrath allowed him to. And Gertruda's mother, I suppose. It is as if the sun is gone not just from the sky, but from their spirits."
When the dark, gothic castle on the bluff comes into view, Soren eyes it apprehensively, wondering if Strahd is aware of them, even now as they walk.
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
4, 2, 3, 1
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Giles is walking along a self satisfied smile on his face. When Soren speaks, it brings him round to the gravity of the situation, the fact that they are in a foreign realm where death was always at hand, always at your elbow. The ruler of this land would gladly see them lying dead on the side of the road, their bones to bleach and become markers on his highways. He looks up in the sky for any hint of sunlight. “Morning lord indeed.” He says to himself. “Stay sharp. Keep on your toes!” He starts to twirl the coin down his fingers again, listening to the conversation as they talk. “Let’s make our feet light and walk swiftly. I wish to get to that camp before nightfall. Ismark seemed pretty emphatic about that. Anyone know any good walking songs?” He looked around hopefully, trying to make their situation a little more light.
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Burr marches along at the rear of the party looking for both dangers and signs of lagging or tiredness in the group, he doesn't want to be caught out in the dark.
Perception: 16
Happy to be moving along, and happier still to have her share of the gold lining her pockets, Zefla's steps are a bit lighter now as they move out of Bavaria. She gives Ireena a couple of side long glances, unsure of what to make the of the woman. This is the one being courted by the creep in the castle? Suppose that would be a topic to avoid...
"Good walking songs? Nah, I'm not much of a singer. Ireena, since we are heading to a Vistani camp for the evening, what can you tell us about these people?" As she asks this question, so many other questions start swirling around in her head, but she decides not to bombard the poor woman who just lost her father.. by the hands of people in her own town. She shudders thinking about that, how the hatred must run pretty deep here.
She turns to Soren and smiles, "That about sums it up, I didn't see spirit really in any of those in town... other than the women in the tavern, interestingly enough.."
She keeps towards the front of the party, keeping her eyes open for anything a miss while continuing the conversation.
Perception 9
You slip out of town as quickly and quietly as you can manage and begin the journey back the way you had come, toward the ruins of the old mansion and beyond. The streets of Barovia are still empty, with just an old black crow to caw out a farewell to you as pass into the trees that line the Old Svallich Road.
A light rain begins to fall as you walk, just enough to dampen your exposed skin without really soaking your garments. The pitter patter of the rain muffles the sound from the woods around you, giving the impression your voices are the only noise but for the raindrops.
"The Vistani? They are... a colorful tribe," Ireena says to Zefla. "Alone among the people here, they retain bold spirits. They love to dance and sing and play music. And stories... they have storytelling competitions that are quite entertaining. I was told they don't believe in writing things down, preferring to share their stories orally. Apparently they like the way a tale can be embellished and grow over time... it is their way of keeping the past alive. Literally... alive and growing. I'm sure they will welcome us if we ask to camp there for the night."
"But they are not entirely care-free," she warns. "Do not steal from them or start violence in their camp. They practice old magic and have been known to curse those who break faith with them."
When Zefla denies knowing any good walking songs, Ireena begins to sing unprovoked. It is a haunting melody and her voice tugs at your heartstrings.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
" Hmmm, well seems we had some interested parties in us. ", Burr remarked looking at the wolf tracks.
" Ireena, do you know any of this mansions history?"
Soren is glad he is not the only one who found the town of Barovia to be drained of life. He considers Zefla's point that the Vistani in the tavern did seem lively and listens to Ireena's description of them. At her warnings about not stealing from them, he is suddenly uncomfortably aware of the map in his backpack. I did not steal it from them. Perhaps Raquon of Greyhawk did. But I do not know if city-folk will believe me. Are Vistani city-folk anyway?
He musings are cut off as he appreciates Ireena's song. Soren's own voice had never been strong, but he remembers wistfully back to the singing of his friends in Neverwinter Wood. The still summer night aglow with the stars glittering. The full moon reflecting off a forest pond. His pack raising their voices in a chorus that spoke of the hunt and of family and of ancient loss and sorrow. Their lupine eyes closed and mouths upraised as they howled.
But the wolves of this strange, cursed land seem alien and cold, somehow. Perhaps in time, that might change, but the werewolves... Silver is forbidden...
Soren calls for Silvanus' guidance and studies the wolf tracks near the abandoned man-dwelling where they had spent the previous night. Trying to gauge whether the tracks (or any spoor) indicate that these were the gray wolves whose howls they had heard the previous night after coming through the mists, or from some different variety, even werewolves. As he recalls, there had been perhaps six to eight of them they had heard, but now, these tracks appear to be from dozens of animals? Strange, if they were stalking us as we walked, then it must have been during the daytime...
Soren Survival plus Guidance to determine type of wolf and a better estimate of numbers: 15 + 2 = 17
He agrees with Giles and Burr that they should keep their pace quick so as not to be caught out at night, though he is unaccustomed to fearing such.
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Giles smiles as they are walking, getting into his own marching rhythm with the song about Lioniv. He gives a good laugh at the end, saying “Thank you Ireena, that was great. Laughing a little goes a long way to dispel the gloom in this land. Hopefully we will be there soon?” As he sees the wolf tracks and notes Soren examine them, he unbuckles the latch that holds his crossbow and keeps his hand on it, checking the edges of the woods, looking ahead and behind, listening for movement and looking for signs of any wolves that may be approaching.
Perception : 11 (passive : 14)
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.